


Nefertem

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Vienna Blood (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Max is going through an emotional crisis. Oskar is desperate to help him, and desperation sometimes leads to the unexpected, and belief in the unbelievable.
Relationships: Max Liebermann/Oskar Rheinhardt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Nefertem

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me unsought out of the blue and via a serendipity, and wanted very much for me to write it, while I wrestle with completing another fic. Sometimes you need the break.
> 
> The ancient Egyptian details have been extensively researched. I'm also an Ancient Egyptophile and cat lover. Where a few minor details are open to more than one interpretation by Egyptologists, I've chosen to go with those which best fit the characterizations we know and love.

Oskar was worried about Max. It was ironic that although Max's abrasive, cocky self-confidence was the thing that had most annoyed him during their early days working together, the current lack of it concerned him more. It was a part of him Oskar had learned to find endearing, and to see it slipping away was sad.

Things were changing in Vienna, and in all of Austria and in Germany as well, for that matter. The scorn and anger towards its Jewish citizens and also citizens of mixed pedigree like Oskar was getting worse. It had advanced to the point of riots in the streets, and frightening physical violence and property damage.

It had been chafing Oskar for more years than it had Max simply because he was older and had been born into the lower middle class, advancing only on his own merits. There was no aristocratic or 'old family' blood in his veins, and he had gotten used to disdain as the price of how far he had come.

Max had not gotten used to it, and his reaction was often hot-blooded when confronted, as he had been more and more lately. Yet there were times he had to bite his tongue and ignore slights or insults, especially when it might affect his training or his access to patients. He had already lost patients simply because he was a Jew. It was affecting both his mood and his confidence, and also their relationship, especially in the bedroom.

Max was as loving as ever, but an aura of sadness now permeated his daily life. Oskar was pleased that Max found comfort and support in him. He would always want to be there for Max. But this melancholy ache in his soul, more visible by the week, pained Oskar to see. He was at a loss as to what he could do or say. There were times that no matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn't make things all better for those you loved. Max wasn't sleeping much, and Oskar's own dreams were lately strange and little remembered.

He wasn't even taking the same pleasure in their evenings out. Lately Oskar had had to coax and wheedle to get Max to do much more than hibernate in the house. Tomorrow night, however, was the opening of an exhibit of Egyptian antiquities and a reception at the natural history museum. They both wanted to go - at least, Max _had_ wanted very much to go three months ago when they had learned of it and he had secured tickets through Amelia Lydgate. Now, however, Oskar wasn't certain. The exhibit, however, was something that _he_ very much wanted to see.

It wasn't a subject they had ever discussed at length, but from his youth Oskar had been interested in the history and the archaeological findings of ancient Egypt. The romance of it had always appealed to him. As a boy the age of Max's nephew, he had spent what little pocket money he had to buy books on the subject, and his interest had never waned. His collection of books on Egypt now took up an entire shelf in the bookcase. He knew Max must have seen them, because he'd gone over the shelves one night not long after he'd moved in, somewhat surprised at Oskar's varied interests. He'd been pleased at those books, as he'd said he shared enthusiasm for things Egyptian. Oskar had been excited to learn of the scarce tickets. Now, however, he wasn't sure what would happen. He broached the subject when Max arrived home from the hospital.

"Ah, the exhibit. I'd forgotten. You must go, of course," Max hedged.

" _I_ must go? You imagine I would go alone?" Oskar frowned. "I thought you were as interested in the exhibition as I am. It's something we both enjoy, and an evening together," he reminded Max, unable to hide his annoyance even when he knew the cause.

"I know. It is my interest as well, of course. It's just - I have come to enjoy staying at home with you."

What a sad attempt at blackmail, Oskar wanted to say. You're hiding here, safe and cocooned from life. Staying in with me and probably going to sleep without making love. But he didn't really want to hurt the man he loved.

"I ask very little of you, Max. I very much want to go, but I won't go without you. You _need_ this, you need to go out a little. And I want us to go together, and enjoy ourselves," he finished with a small hopeful, coaxing smile, placing a kiss on Max's nose.

"You really want me to go with you."

"I do."

"Then..of course," Max gave in. "Because I would do anything to make you happy, you know." He gave a half-grin and began undoing Oskar's collar and tie.

***

As they climbed the steps of the museum. Oskar was guiltily relieved that Amelia wouldn't be there. They had all become friends of a sort, colleagues even, but Max's previous relationships with her, first as her doctor and then as would-be suitor, still left both he and Max a bit off balance in her company now. His current insecurity would not be helped by seeing her.

The reception consisted of champagne and hors d'oevres and the usual city dignitaries and officials praising the exhibit that most of them knew little about and cared even less for; speeches, smiles, and a short address by the person who had traveled with the artifacts from Cairo.

Unusually, that person was apparently a woman - a very old, tiny, frail-looking woman, dressed in foreign clothing which Max realized was a combination of Egyptian Muslim and traditional Jewish dress. The little woman with the sparkle in her eyes and lively laugh appeared to be an Egyptian Jewess. She also had small tattoos on her face and hands with hieroglyphic symbols of the kind which used to be commonplace among ancient Egyptians as amulets and charms against harm or evil. Her background must be fascinating, Max thought. The belief in her heritage pleased him, and he felt cheered and uplifted in some indefinable way. He knew of the long-enduring communities of Jews in Cairo and Alexandria, but had never met anyone from there. He would enjoy speaking with her, and was suddenly grateful to Oskar for prodding him to come.

He and Oskar strolled through the exhibit together for a while, but at some point Oskar stayed behind to pore over something in detail and Max went on about the room by himself. The presence of the aged caretaker, who reminded him of his grandmother, imbued him with a courage he'd felt the lack of. He relaxed and began to enjoy himself.

After perhaps a little more than half an hour Max looked around for Oskar and spied him in serious conversation with the intriguing woman. Perfect timing, he thought. He was unaware, as he moved in their direction, that she'd been observing both he and Oskar for some time both together and apart, and that her ancient eyes saw much.

Oskar introduced her as Madame Maryam Ghebali. She turned dark, penetrating eyes on Max, gazing at him slowly from head to toe, smiling, as if she was both appraising and appreciating him.

"I never thought to meet you in this life, Nefertem, born in perfect beauty. Yet you are surely he, standing here before me. As slim and graceful as the lotus which birthed you and smelling as sweet. I am pleased."

Her words were spoken softly. She reached up to touch Max's face, and smiled. The smile warmed him instantly. He was unsure how to react, but oddly pleased nonetheless. He also blushed at the florid compliments.

"The pleasure is mine, _safta._ " He found himself replying in Hebrew, with a genuine, natural smile Oskar hadn't seen on his face in weeks, "Even if I don't understand."

"He is a healer, you have told me." She turned and spoke to Oskar. "I can see it in his eyes, as well as the strength of his father and the grace of his mother. So beautiful, in body and in spirit, is he not? It refreshes my eyes to look upon him."

Oskar, who was just as shocked as Max at her declarations, answered carefully.

"He is certainly a healer Madame, beautiful in spirit, and kind. He is indeed Nefertem to me, though it has taken your words to open my eyes to it. Thank you," he murmured.

"I don't understand," Max repeated. "Who or what is Nefertem?"

Madame Ghebali smiled. "I think you can look to your friend for an explanation, my beautiful lotus." That he would certainly do, at the earliest opportunity, he thought. Yet there was something about this old woman that drew him to her, as if he needed her and she sensed his need. It was almost a compulsion.

"May I call on you, _safta,_ while you are here? I would like to speak more with you, if I may. I'm in need of your wisdom," Max asked softly, pressing his forehead to her hand. It was the most respectful way he could think of to ask to see her again, which he very much wanted.

"If it pleases you," she agreed, her eyes crinkling. "I will be here for another few days. You may come here for a mid day refreshment, and we can speak privately. But now, I think, I must speak to the others who wait on me," she reminded him.

"Of course. Thank you. I have enjoyed this evening very much." With that, Max backed away and left her to other admirers.

Oskar watched all of this with interest, as taken aback as Max. Certainly the old woman had greatly affected his friend, and from the look of things it was a positive experience. He too had been charmed by her, drawn to her seeming agelessness, revealing a bit more of his friendship with Max than he'd intended to, he realized too late.

Nefertem, indeed. Yes, Max did epitomize this very ancient god. If only he could absorb some of Nefertem's, and Madame Ghebali's, belief in himself. If Oskar could convey the myth, and the spirit of Nefertem. Would Max understand? Would he want to listen, or try to understand? As much as Oskar loved him, it was sometimes difficult to reach Max without risk of misunderstanding or offence, and his present state of mind would only increase that risk.

They made another round of the exhibit together before leaving. In the cab on the way home, Max of course asked Oskar for the story of Nefertem, why Madame Ghebali had suggested that he was Oskar's Nefertem, and why Oskar had agreed that he was.

He was one of the oldest of Egyptian gods, Oskar explained. He was the son of Ptah, the ancient Creator god, and his mother was said to be either Sekhmet or Bast, both goddesses possessed of a feline beauty and temperment. Nefertem was born from the bud of the blue lotus flower at the dawn of creation. He cried because he was alone, and his tears created humanity. He represented the sunrise. That, Oskar told him, would be a start, but he would say more as they spoke of it later - tomorrow, perhaps.

While Max certainly wanted to know more, he also wanted to speak to the old woman before he had any more discussions about the evening's revelations with Oskar. He had the feeling that she knew of their relationship, and that somehow Nefertem was part of that knowledge. He had a hunch that Oskar believed the same. It was also clear that Oskar was no more eager to talk about it right now than he was. 

"I'm glad you insisted I go tonight," Max revealed as they were undressing to go to bed. "I enjoyed it, and being with you, very much. I'm sorry I've been so distracted." He gave Oskar an apologetic kiss.

"I'm happy that you had a pleasant evening." Oskar accepted the apology with a caress. "I know your thoughts have been troubled lately. I only want you to be happy. We can speak about it tomorrow if you would like. Madame has opened that door, hasn't she?" Oskar ventured hopefully, getting into bed. Max smiled in agreement.

"I don't understand it, but she has, somehow."

Max joined him under the covers, curling naturally and contentedly into Oskar's arms. He was also asleep surprisingly quickly and slept through the night without waking, something he hadn't done for almost a fortnight.

The next morning, Oskar perceived his own sleep as restful and again dreamless, a bit unusual but he didn't question it much. He and Max were again easy with each other and it gave him joy, and hope.

Oskar went to work, and Max found himself waiting impatiently until it was time to meet Madame Ghebali at the museum. While his fingers itched to look in Oskar's books himself for more about Nefertem, the old woman's words came to him."I think you can look to your friend for an explanation." Perhaps it was something he should hear from Oskar after all.

She was waiting for him in the exhibit hall, eyes lighting and gaze softening as he approached. She moved to meet him, and Max was struck by her gracefulness. She did not move like an old woman. There was a quiet beauty to her that radiated, and he felt immediately calmed within her aura. In a small room off the exhibit, a tray of sandwiches and small pastries along with a pot of sweet and spicy Egyptian tea had been placed on a low table in front of an overstuffed sofa.

Max had so many worries he hardly knew where to begin. Seeing his shyness and uncertainty, she took his hands in hers, looked him in the eye, and told him not to worry, that he could tell her anything and she would give him her counsel freely, though he might find it difficult to follow. She also produced a blue lotus flower which she inhaled, and invited him to do the same. It was a beautiful and exotic bloom with a heady, intoxicating fragrance.

After that he began to relax, and confiding in her became possible. She asked him many questions, about his life and his profession, and about Oskar. He found himself blushing as she spoke to him. She never directly indicated she knew he and Oskar were lovers, but she was aware all the same. Their relationship interested her as much or more than his feelings of confusion and hopelessness. The meeting lasted well into the afternoon, but none came to disturb them. By the time they said goodbye Max was feeling more cheerful, more hopeful, than he had in months. He thanked her sincerely and profusely, kissing her wrinkled hands. She'd made him feel better just by being there and listening, though he was embarrassed about some of the advice she'd given him, and the parcel she was sending home with him. Still, he was prepared to share it all with Oskar.

Earlier that afternoon, while he was working his way through detested paperwork, a messenger was shown into Oskar's office with a small package. He waited until most of the men were out and things were quiet before opening the paper wrapping. There was a letter inside. He knew before he read it who it was from - the mesmerizing Madame Ghebali. It brought tears to his eyes, yet had him nodding in understanding and agreement. She knew how much he loved Max, and why. The remaining contents were a small statue - of Nefertem of course - and a delicate, beautifully wrought gold and enamel lotus flower on a finely worked chain. He never questioned for a moment that they dated back to a time when the Egyptian gods were regarded as very real. They were meaningful and precious gifts.

By the time Max arrived home it was dark. He was comforted to see that the lights were on and therefore Oskar was home waiting for him. Even so, he was somewhat nervous as he entered. The table was set for a simple meal - soup, bread and wine. He was grateful, as he was too unsettled to have much of an appetite. Perhaps it was the same for Oskar.

"Did your visit with Madame Ghebali go well?"

"Very well..I believe. I hope." Max came up to Oskar from behind and hugged him tightly, laying his cheek against Oskar's back.

"I have missed you," Oskar murmured gruffly.

"Today and for these past weeks?"

"Yes," Oskar admitted, turning and pulling Max into an embrace. Max groaned into his neck, hungry for love and forgiveness.

"It's all right. I know it's difficult. All will be well, my Nefertem," Oskar assured. "Come, sit and eat a little, have some wine and relax."

How Max longed to know more of this god. But there would be time enough now. He nodded, and they sat and ate in near silence. Afterward, Oskar suggested they both get comfortable and sit together on the sofa to finish the wine.

He went into the bedroom and put on a dressing gown and slippers, and returned to the living room. Max had disappeared into the bathroom, and was taking his time coming out. When he finally returned, Oskar simply stared.

Max was barefoot. The only thing he wore was a very sheer linen kilt the ancient Egyptians called a _shendyt,_ which may have technically covered him but hid nothing at all. It rested tantalizingly low on his slim, graceful hips. Every inch of him was clearly visible through the veil of fabric. His eyes were rimmed with the black cosmetic kohl the ancient Egyptians used to both protect and enhance. The contrast with Max's pale blue eyes was startling, like set jewels.

"Ohh. Oh, Max." While his throat threatened to close with emotion, his cock threatened to rise.

"I feel a little ridic-"

"Don't," Oskar cut him off. "Don't think it either. Come here to me," he breathed.

Max came across the room and settled on the sofa. The fabric was already sticking to his body, damp with nervous sweat, which of course aroused Oskar even more.

"My God you are so beautiful," he groaned."Nefertem. Nefertem," he repeated softly. He inhaled sharply and caught a sweet, heavy and very enticing scent. Leaning in, he inhaled again, happily nuzzling into Max's neck. "Is it-?"

"Blue lotus. Madame said-"

"She was right," Oskar muttered with a little laugh, both hands caressing Max's face and neck.

Max hummed in pleasure. It would be all too easy to make love without saying any more, but -

"Oskar. She said you must tell me about Nefertem, and..us," he asked softly.

"Yes." It was Oskar's turn to be shy. "All right," he agreed with a slight grimace of embarrassment and a last lingering caress down Max's bare chest.

"The name is translated with a few possibilities, but one interpretation is 'that which is beautifully completed,' or 'perfectly beautiful,' and you have always been that to me," he revealed. "You're everything I've never been, physically. I love looking at you, clothed or naked, but especially your naked body. There has been so little good or beautiful in my life, looking on you feeds my soul." Oskar felt a little strange, a bit light-headed, but the words came shockingly easy while gazing into Max's clear blue eyes. "You don't like to be looked at, I know. You are not easy with your beauty. Sometimes, it makes me sad that I can't just look at you, awake or asleep, clothed or naked, when I want to. But I do understand you are shy," Oskar acknowledged. "And that too is part of why I love you."

Max's mouth dropped open, then closed. He managed not to blush, and only smiled slightly, lowering his head.

"Nefertem is a god of healing, but particularly in relation to pleasant scents, because the Egyptians believed that pleasing smells like those of the lotus were healing in themselves. That's true for me, I admit," he confessed with a smile. "You always smell so wonderful, I could get lost in your scent whether it is your cologne, the lotus, or this," Oskar growled a little, pressing his nose against a sweat-damp spot near one nipple. Max shuddered, bringing his hand up to brush Oskar's hair.

"The god and the lotus are associated with sensual pleasure and beauty, but also rebirth and transformation, and regeneration and growth.. That's what you do for your patients, Doctor Liebermann, and for me too. You are a good, caring doctor who tries to help people, even when you doubt yourself.

"Nefertem is order emerging from chaos. You are also that for me. What would my life be like without you, hm? I don't want to think about it." Oskar admitted. "He Who Is Beautiful, my Water-Lily of the Sun. You are all of that to me. But these are not things men say to each other, are they? I'm also afraid you'll believe that your beauty is the _only_ reason I want to be with you," Oskar sighed, relieved to have said what he was driven to say, and drained for the moment.

Max was silent, stunned. He pulled Oskar into his arms and hugged him close. Oskar, thirsty for the touch and praying he hadn't said too much, hugged back. "No, I don't believe that," Max whispered assurance in his ear.

"I wasn't raised to think highly of myself. Since childhood I've known I was too thin, not manly or athletic-appearing. Awkward, intolerant of fools, too smart for my own good. Also in the eyes of many, a member of an inherently evil race. People say such things to children, Oskar. I had to do something, or my emotions would be an open book. Those who wanted to hurt and demean me would know they had. But it does hurt, and the more it hurts the more arrogant I appear, I suppose," Max murmured against Oskar's dressing gown.

"I know. But I haven't dared to say anything, offer any sympathy or advice, for that very reason. You might become worse, or angry and more closed off. So I've said little, but I know. I've always wanted to help but I haven't been able to. Having some of you is better than having none," Oskar whispered against his hair.

"I'm sorry," Max choked, his voice thick. "Madame said that you and I needed to be honest with each other, to tell each other how we felt. To say everything we haven't said. It's difficult, and I know it is as much for you as it is for me."

"She is a wise, kind woman."

"I'm expected to have all the answers in my professional life and do as my family wishes in my personal life. You're the only thing I've ever really fought them on. The only thing I've wanted regardless of what anyone said or any consequences. There's an anger in me," Max admitted. "Towards the Viennese establishment and the government who look down their noses at me and my family, and towards the patients who won't see me. With my family too for not seeing Doctor Liebermann, who is more than their son and brother, and for not fighting back or acknowledging the danger either. They want to hide; more and more, I can't do that."

"You can talk to me, tell me how you're feeling. But I believed you wouldn't regard my counsel as worthy of listening to," Oskar spoke softly. "Your family fear the changes they know are coming. You feel they don't want to know or believe what's happening. They know, Max, but losing everything you've built in your life, through all your struggles, is painful. They are brave, actually, because they do know. Don't be angry with them, show them you love them. You could lose them in all of this. Every day that you leave the house without me and I hear of riots, demonstrations, beatings and shops being smashed or burned, knowing your anger, fear eats a hole in my belly until you walk through that door. They're just as afraid for you as you are for them," Oskar admonished gently.

Max groaned, still holding to him tightly.

"I do listen to you, even if it seems I don't. But it's difficult not to want to keep control, and to change the way I look at things."

"As it's difficult for your father. Patience and kindness are the best way."

"You are so kind and patient with me, why haven't I been able to see them more clearly?" Max sighed.

"Because you're still young, and see mostly through your own eyes. It takes time to gain a wider view of the world. Your father is as careful as it's prudent to be with his business, his life, and the loved ones who depend on him and worry about him. I would be happier, and worry less, if you did the same even a little," Oskar asked quietly.

"I promise I'll try. You could give me one of your Looks to remind me, when we're on a case," Max teased. "I like those looks," he added quickly. "They make me feel like I belong to someone. To you. I want to be yours, Oskar. Some days you're all that keeps me sane, knowing you care in a way no one else cares. I want to hold on, wherever we are, in public or alone, and never let go. I don't know why you bother with me, and I'm always half afraid you'll decide one day I'm not worth the trouble." The last was spoken very softly, tentatively.

"Huh," Oskar chuckled, pressing his lips to Max's silky hair. "If I'd thought you weren't worth the trouble, we wouldn't be having this talk. I knew you were 'worth it' the day we met, Call-me-Max," he teased. Max groaned again, but it evolved into a sort of snort at the same time.

"What else did Madame tell you?" Oskar asked, hands caressing Max's flanks. To Oskar's surprise, Max's cheeks went crimson.

"Max?"

"Best discussed in the other room," he stuttered.

"The other room? What- ah, the bedroom, do you mean?" Oskar guessed. "Wellll. I'm appreciating Madame more all the time," he grinned.

"She said that if I wanted to feel powerful, to feel good about myself when things weren't going well, I should..do what I wanted to do in bed, to, um, take charge sometimes. As long as you..the other person was willing."

"What a very perceptive woman Madame has turned out to be," Oskar murmured, lightly tonguing a nipple while 'accidentally' brushing his fingers against a telling wet spot on Max's kilt. She had certainly been right about the clothing she'd given Max, and the lotus scent, surely anticipating the effect it would have.

"Yes," Max hissed softly in pleasure. "She's wonderful. But..Oskar - If you don't want.."

Oskar frowned.

"Have I ever made you feel as if I wouldn't want you to take the lead, to take control sometimes?" he asked.

"No, I suppose not. But I've been happy the way things are. I never thought-"

"You feel desired when I make love to you."

"God, yes!"

"But you've never thought _I_ might feel the same, and enjoy it as much as you do, if you were to make love to _me_?" Oskar asked.

That brought Max up short.

"I've been selfish," he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Oskar."

"Yes, you are selfish, but I love you, so I accept everything about you. But it would be nice sometimes to feel like that. To believe for a while that you find me desirable too," Oskar confessed.

"Oh Oskar. Of course I desire you! Some days, I wish I could make love to you in the cab on the way home. In the kitchen. On the sofa. You always excite me," Max insisted.

"Yet you rarely act on it."

"I was also not raised to let my desires run free. I know, I am backward and repressed in sexual matters."

Oskar chuckled softly. "Not _so_ backward or repressed," he reassured. "But do listen to Madame. Listen to your body as to your heart. Do what you like, Max. It's good to make love with each other, not only me making love to you. I would like it," Oskar breathed, nibbling on an earlobe. Max groaned and nodded.

"I'd almost forgotten," Oskar purred. "Madame sent me gifts as well." He picked up the parcel, which had been sitting on a table next to the sofa, and opened it again. He set out the little statue of Nefertem.

"This belongs in the bedroom, I think," he suggested. "And this is for me to give to you, she said." He brought the lotus pendant into the light. Max's eyes widened.

"It's exquisite - and very old, isn't it?"

"It certainly appears so." As soon as Oskar put it around his neck, Max swore he could smell the scent of the flower Madame had, as if the tiny gold, blue and red blossom was real. His head swam a little, yet suddenly he had a very clear vision.

"On the sofa," he breathed, a wicked little grin appearing. Oskar grinned back.

"If it pleases you, Doctor," he agreed, choosing his words deliberately.

In moments Max was kissing him, hard, clawing to open the dressing gown and continuing raw, desperate kisses down his throat and chest, caressing ferociously while managing somehow to pull his clothes off.

Max straddled his hips, grinding his pelvis against Oskar's and making muffled animal sounds against his neck. Sweat that smelled of Max and lotus dripped from his hair onto Oskar's body, inflaming them both further. Max reached between them and grasped him, stroking purposefully. Oskar reached inside the kilt and reciprocated. Well done, Madame Ghebali, he thought.

Max moved off of him for a moment, reaching over to turn off the lamp. They were in darkness now except for a small light in the bedroom hallway that gave a soft glow to the room. No one passing by could see anything, but they could still see each other bathed in the intimate light.

Max pushed him to lie back on the sofa and straddled him again with clear intent.

"Don't you want to get some-" Oskar started to remind him.

"No need tonight. I want you so much." Max's voice was low and husky. It was Oskar who shivered now in anticipation. He moved over Oskar's cock, slowly letting it impale him centimeter by centimeter. When he was fully sheathed, his muscles gripped firmly and his partner groaned in delight. His hips began a slow, snake-like, sensuous movement. So slow, in fact, that Oskar thought he might die of frustration. Just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, Max began to move faster, taking him deeper, even in passion maintaining his uncanny grace.

As Oskar gazed up at him, he saw the beautiful face that he loved, sweat dripping onto both of them, beneath it his slim, elegant body glistening, long arms caressing him, all in an arousing, undulating dance he found entrancing. It was like making love with a large cat.

The rhythm, and Max's position, varied now. He might slow almost to stillness to lean down close and kiss Oskar, invading his mouth, taking a possession Oskar was eager to grant. Or kiss his belly, licking at the sweat, stroking him possessively. He had expressed this need to Max, but even he hadn't realized just how badly he'd been wanting it and how wonderful it would feel. Chest to chest with gentle, tender kisses too, Max caressing Oskar's body with his own.

"My beautiful Max," Oskar rasped. "Please?"

At his words, Max's nodding smile was no longer feral but soft and tender. He reached back and stroked Oskar's _Hoden,_ squeezing slightly as he clenched his muscles again. Oskar gasped, and came. He didn't, he realized later, remember anything after that for a couple of minutes. When he regained his senses and his breath, he could hear Max's short gasps for air in the quiet room.

"That was..incredible," he mumured hoarsely. Max settled half-over him, caressing gently now, whispering words of love. Oskar stroked his back.

"Shall we go to bed now, so that I may give you your pleasure where it's comfortable for both of us? I really don't want to fall asleep here, as good as you feel in my arms."

"Mmm," Max agreed, letting Oskar get up and steer him through the dark into the bedroom. He was getting tired, but the scent of the blue lotus was still strong. He'd stopped questioning being able to smell it since he knew Oskar was aware of it too and they couldn't both be mad. The cool sheets felt good against his overheated body. He was happy now to put himself in Oskar's skilled hands and mouth. He held up his arms, drawing Oskar down for a kiss.

"I will always love you, and want you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I've been selfish and thoughtless. I need you, Oskar, more than anything. Anything," he repeated, his fingers ruffling his lover's bristly salt and pepper hair. "Will you love me now?"

In answer, Oskar bestowed wet kisses all the way down his body. As he closed his lips over Max's _Schwanz_ he hummed, and Max gasped in pleasure.

"Ahhh. Do go on with your song. It's catchy."

Oskar snorted with laughter.

Max lay back and closed his eyes. Oskar had always had a clever, experienced mouth. The beard and mustache tickled sometimes when he licked and sucked him, but it also made Max's toes curl in want when he thought of all the places his body would be worshipped so intimately.

After everything he'd been going through and his amazingly erotic take-charge lovemaking earlier, Oskar gambled that Max might be grateful just now for the simple over the unexpected when it came to his own climax. He made love to him in exactly the way he had many times before, and was pleased to see and feel Max relax into the familiar pleasure. He didn't need to think, or wonder what was going to happen, he could simply enjoy it. Which, judging by the gasps, moans and frequent arcing of his hips off the bed, he very much was. When he came it was relatively quietly, almost peacefully as Oskar held him. He went completely boneless after that, Oskar tenderly moving him as if he were a child's doll.

"Oskar. Keep me warm. Keep me safe," Max whispered in the quiet. Oskar noticed that he was trembling. He drew up the covers and snugged them tightly around both of them, wrapping himself around Max.

"Good night, He Who Is Beautiful, and brave," he whispered. "You are always safe with me."

***

The first thing Max thought as he came to consciousness was 'ouch,' followed by a shameless private grin. The sun was up, but by its position he knew it was still early. Oskar snored softly beside him. He stretched a bit gingerly, but couldn't help grinning again. The discomfort would pass, but the memory of last night would be with him forever. He rolled over, happy to watch Oskar as he slept. They didn't do this enough, he thought.

On reflection, he knew that they often had the time or could have made the time, and the fact that they hadn't been enjoying each other as they might have was his fault. He'd been shying away from the very intimacy he craved. Why? Because he was afraid. Not only of the intimacy and the secrets which would be revealed, the words that might be heard or spoken, but of coping in his changing world, which had taken lately to spinning like the Riesenrad. The paralyzing fear was gone; he felt that within himself. It wasn't that he was going to be in full control from now on, because he knew that would be impossible to achieve. But he had Oskar, and his family. Whatever happened, knowing that he wasn't alone and no longer needed to have all the answers was enough. The rational part of him had always known it of course, he'd just never accepted it. Madame had convinced him to trust both in himself and in others. If he fell it wouldn't be far, and he would be picked up and supported.

He began to caress Oskar under the covers. Whisper light and tender, as if they had all the time in the world. It took a minute or two before Oskar woke, though he continued to pretend to be asleep.

Oskar could hardly bear the tenderness he'd craved for so long. Emotion, which had always been what he considered his weak spot, bubbled up in him.

"If this is the way you will say good morning, I'll wait for you to wake me, always," he rumbled.

"It's a deal."

" _Engel_ ," he whispered, returning the caresses and adding soft kisses. He still wondered, though, if the things that had been said between them the night before would have a lasting effect. He drew the bedclothes away to look at his beautiful Nefertem, uncertain what Max's reaction would be.

Max swallowed somewhat nervously but continued to meet his eye, not looking away.

"Thank you."

"Touch me, please," Max breathed. He took Oskar's hand and held it to his face for a moment, rubbing against it like a cat, kissing the palm. "You excite me, comfort and love me with these hands. They are my safe place," he sighed.

Their mutual loving went on for some time, both men awash in feelings too long suppressed. Having sex was not their purpose, finding what they had nearly lost was. They were purely, peacefully happy. Until Oskar's stomach rumbled, loudly, and Max shifted to sit up, and winced.

"I will not remind you that I warned you," Oskar purred sympathetically, placing a warm hand on Max's sacrum.

"Thank you," Max sighed, leaning his head briefly on Oskar's shoulder. "And I'm not sorry, either."

"Wicked Nefertem." Oskar shook his head. "As much as I would like to stay all day in this bed with you, we must eat."

"And - would you mind? I want to see Madame Ghebali, to thank her. We might take her some flowers, and perhaps to lunch," Max suggested.

"Of course we'll go. We have reason to be very grateful to her," Oskar agreed. He rose, washed himself, and went to see to coffee and rolls. Max followed soon after. After he'd washed, he picked up the _shendyt_ and folded it carefully, placing it in the bureau along with the small glass bottle of blue lotus oil and the kohl and its brush. He wanted to keep them close at hand, because they would continue to be used. The blue lotus pendant he continued to wear; he didn't intend to ever take it off. He considered it more than a decoration or a simple talisman. It was a covenant between him, Oskar and Madame.

They breakfasted and finished dressing, and while Oskar went to hail a cab, Max called the museum to see if a message could be left for Madame Ghebali. When Oskar returned, he was in time to hear Max jam the phone back on the receiver in annoyance, his face showing irritation.

"Is she not there?" Oskar asked.

Max threw up his hands.

"I don't know! The clerk on the telephone kept telling me there was no such person there connected with the exhibit. He said he'd never heard her name before," he growled.

"What?" Oskar blinked in surprise. "Fool! Well, we'll just have to surprise her, and hope she has time to see us. Come, Max, let's just go there now," he encouraged, shaking his head.

They stopped on the way at a florist. Of course the blue lotus could not be had in the city, but they were able to obtain some unusual lillies. They went directly to the exhibit and found only a few visitors in mid day, with no sign of Madame. Oskar asked a guard at the door, and received the same puzzling response that Max had - the name was unfamiliar to him, and he had not seen a woman in the exhibit in any official capacity. He would, he said, bring the manager of the exhibit to them.

"What in the hell is going on? This is crazy," Oskar exclaimed, shaking his head. "Has she told them she doesn't want to see us for some reason, that they would deny her existence?"

The manager, a short, slim and dapper Egyptian man in a Western suit and wearing a fez, introduced himself as Professor Hassan. He listened patiently as they related meeting Madame Maryam Ghebali, described to them as the keeper of the exhibit, on the night of the reception and speaking to her at length, both together and separately. And yesterday, Max having met her in the exhibit and spending all afternoon with her, with Oskar also receiving a package from her.

When they had finished, the Professor looked at them keenly. If they had not introduced themselves as a physician and a police detective respectively, he would have dismissed them as lunatics.

"Gentlemen, I am at a loss. I have accompanied these treasures here to Vienna from Cairo, and no aged Egyptian Jewess, nor indeed any women but servants, accompanied us here. I was here two nights ago, welcoming guests, and I believe I may just remember seeing you, although I don't believe we met. Perhaps this woman you describe already lives in the city, and came to the exhibit to target respectable men such as yourselves for some scheme, to relieve you of money in some way. I can offer no other possible explanation. I'm sorry."

Oskar asked to see the room where Max and Madame Ghebali had had tea. Only because he insinuated he might be asking in an official capacity did the Professor agree. He went to the guard for the key. He protested that the room was long unused and no one had been inside it for a year or more. Nevertheless Oskar insisted, and the door was opened.

Max gasped in shock. Instead of being swept and sparsely furnished with the sofa and the table from which they'd eaten, the room was crammed with crates halfway to the ceiling, some half-opened with straw spilling out, and dust and cobwebs covered everything. He stared at Oskar in wide-eyed disbelief.

After that they thanked Professor Hassan and left. Oskar had the cab driver take them to the Stadtpark and let them out to walk. Neither of them said anything for quite a while, each deep in their own confused thoughts. Eventually they sat on a bench and had lemonade and shared a sausage on a bun.

"It wasn't some hallucination, Oskar. We both spoke with her, and she answered us. I _touched_ her. She gave us physical gifts, and the gift of her kindness and wisdom. Whoever she was, I don't think her object was to take money from us, or to wish us ill. What do you think? Tell me, please," Max pleaded.

Oskar sighed, wondering what to say. He had been thinking furiously, and several curious facts that he seemed to have forgotten had revealed themselves to him once again. But could he tell Max? Should he? Would it be too much, too unbelievable, stretching his credulity with his very logical and pragmatic lover so soon? He closed his eyes and grasped Max's hand beneath his coat that sat between them on the bench.

"It could be some great conspiracy, for political reasons," he began. "It could be as he said, someone out to get money, perhaps even blackmail. It could be to cover up a murder, or a lesser crime purely between the Egyptians."

"Do you believe any of that?" Max pressed, wild-eyed.

"No. I don't."

"But what are we left with then? What are we to think," he murmured, his head aching.

"I believe she was real, and that we did see and speak to her. As to who she was, or is - I have..a theory. But I don't want to tell you right now. I'm afraid of what you'll think. Don't ask me yet, Max. I'll tell you if I can some time. Please."

Max squeezed his hand. "All right. I don't want to upset you further. We're both in a strange state of mind. I certainly am. I'll just..keep thinking," he sighed. "Let's go home, please."

"Home is a good place for us," Oskar agreed. "She knew that."

When they arrived, he observed that Max still held the lillies, grown slightly limp in his damp grasp. Max hesitated, thinking. He picked up a simple glass vase from the bookshelf, put water in it and then the lillies, and carried it into the bedroom, where he set it down next to the statue of Nefertem. Oskar held his breath watching all of this. Did Max begin to see after all?

Later that night with Max sleeping soundly in his arms, Oskar couldn't sleep for nerves, though he felt physically exhausted.. He'd turned it over and over in his mind, now that he remembered, and could come to only one conclusion. He'd been worried about Max, heartsick for him and also sad that they weren't communicating and that Max wasn't able to seek comfort with him. While Max was working late or just out, disturbed, unhappy and not eager to come home, Oskar had sought comfort in his books, as he had after Mitzi died and Else left him. He was deep in one of the books on Egyptian gods and goddesses, and he fell asleep reading. His dream had been a strange mixture of praying in a church and suddenly finding himself worshipping in an ancient temple. He remembered only bits of the dream, and didn't realize exactly when he stopped being able to recall any of it, or even that he had dreamed at all. He'd begun to sleep poorly and hadn't known why.

Now, with all the strangeness surrounding this woman's very odd yet fortuitous appearance and her equally baffling disappearance, suddenly he could remember it all clearly. It was not the sort of thing he believed in, nor, of course, did Max. But did that matter if _she_ had heard him, and _she_ believed? He might be wrong in his disbelief. He'd been wrong before. To his chagrin, working with Max had demonstrated that all too frequently. There seemed only one possible explanation, and he supposed he must accept it. As soon as he reached this conclusion, a wave of weariness washed over him and he fell into a restful sleep.

***

_She regretted not being able to see them one last time, together and well. She had forgotten that Mortals preferred farewells. But she had been growing steadily weaker and knew she would not be able to keep the veil in place long enough. It was time for her to return to The Land of the Dead to rule beside her consort, the great Lord Ptah. She set in motion one final gift, a goodbye of sorts she hoped her summoner would understand even if the Nefertem did not._

_She smiled in gentle satisfaction as her physical body began to shimmer. She had done what she'd come to do, what she'd been called on to do. To help her beloved son, wrapped in the cloak of the troubled young healer. His spirit had been freed, and he could be happy now with his mate, who had proven himself worthy. It had been millenia since anyone had called on her for aid and she was well pleased with the soul of the gruff, quiet man who loved his Nefertem so fiercely. Ma'at would be pleased as well. The shimmering exploded into a sparkling sunshower, and she was gone._

The next day and the day after they didn't speak of her, by mutual unspoken agreement. What more was there to say, after all. Someone, or something, had changed their lives for the better, had restored them to each other. Why continue to question it? That didn't, of course, mean they weren't thinking of her.

One night soon after that, a storm broke in the evening, the wind coming up and the rain lashing down. It was not, Max offered, a night for man or beast to be out in. It seemed that no sooner had he said it than a plaintive yowling could be heard outside. It went on, and Oskar peered out the curtains but saw nothing. The pitiful noise continued until Max opened the door and went out in the downpour. Under the single light in the courtyard sat a slender, delicate cat of the color often called blue, soaking wet and utterly bedraggled. Max scooped her up and brought her inside.

"A towel, Oskar, or a blanket. She's soaked and shivering." Max cuddled her against his chest and she accepted his attentions quietly. Oskar brought both. The cat was 'she' from the beginning, neither of them ever considered checking. She was dried and warmed and fed, and curled up happily between them, first on the sofa and later on the bed.

There were no further questions, and neither Max nor Oskar discussed the old woman after that. The cat's name became, simply and naturally, Madame. They didn't generally treat her as more than a pet when they were all together, but if one of them was home and not the other and had any worries, however, it felt natural to talk to Madame, who seemed to listen intently, after which she would simply knead or curl up in a lap, purring, and the problem did not seem so bad. Individually, they had each also thanked Her for the cat's presence, Max going so far as to tell the cat she'd been missed. When they made love, usually she would leave them for awhile, but there were times she sat like the typical Egyptian statue on the chest next to the statue of Nefertem, watching. They didn't mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Blue lotus effects include the blunting of inhibitions, being sedative and calming, feeling slightly euphoric, with light mood-altering/psychoactive effects and enhancement of touch sensation. All of these together heighten perception of sensuality and eroticism and there may be a perceived aphrodisiac effect. Sort of like a gentle cross between Valium and Ecstasy. Enhanced when consumed with/added to wine.
> 
> Safta - Hebrew for grandmother  
> Schwanz and Hoden - Cock and balls  
> Engel - Angel  
> Ma'at - Goddess of truth, justice and balance. The one who makes sure all's right with the world.


End file.
